


Release

by Fooeyburr



Series: Debt [3]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Abuse, Body Horror, Dehumanization, Dissociation, M/M, Mental Anguish, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 20:21:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11813508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fooeyburr/pseuds/Fooeyburr
Summary: Stan learns nothing at all.





	Release

**Author's Note:**

> This one follows the events of [Exertion](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11811741), with no additional Tumblr exclusive fics in between.

 

* * *

 

”Great uncle Ford!”

It only took Ford one look at the shock in the children’s expressions to realize what it was about.

“It’s Grunkle Stan”, Mabel choked out, her lower lip trembling. “I-I don’t know what happened, I was telling him he should say please more often, and h-he… He just…”

“Take me to him”, Ford said. “Now.”

It had been years since Stanley’s previous relapse. At a first glance, there was nothing out of the usual: he found his brother curled up against a wall, breathing in short, shallow huffs, completely unresponsive to Ford and the kids’ presence.

“Stanley…”

His quiet call did nothing to move Stan’s glazed stare from the spot it was glued onto. His paled lips were moving, repeating something; this was new. Ford’s heart felt heavy as he leaned closer to his brother and listened to his barely audible breaths.

But it wasn’t until he could finally tie the syllables into words that he got quickly up and ordered the younger set of twins to leave.

He stayed away from Stanley for a long while himself, clueless as to how – if – he should approach him. Why… would he say he…?

All he could do was watch in terror as Stan kept quietly chanting those words over and over, unable to even begin to imagine what he was currently reliving.

 

 

* * *

 

“…but now, due to the firearm crisis, the migration flow to Cuba has stalled completely.”

“I see. What’s in it for us, huh? It’s Cuba, the crisis could be over tomorrow. I’ve tried this tactic before, and it’s useless. A waste of time and money.”

“Don Federico, with all due respect, there is a great amount of unused potential in paperless migrants currently stuck at the border, with no place to return to in México. They don’t know how long the state of emergency is going to last, and they are distressed, vulnerable and desperate for work. All we need to do is contact –“

“Nh---!”

The company around the large table fell quiet at the stifled sound that could be heard from Rico’s end of the table.

Rico raised an eyebrow, spreading his arms at his guests in an amusedly apologetic manner before tilting his head to peek beneath the table. “What’s the matter, sl— oh, look at you. Hah, I’m almost flattered.” He gave another cheerful glance at the table company. “S _eñores_ , I apologize for the disruption. Looks like my boy can’t be anywhere near me without getting his heat on.”

Some of the men laughed rashly at his words, while others, evidently newcomers in Rico’s inner circle of corrupt authorities, followed with a short delay and a few uncomfortable looks thrown at each other.

“You just can’t keep it down, can you?”

Sometimes… ever since… _that_ … it just happened. Without any cause, any stimulation, any real reason at all. Stan squirmed weakly under the weight of Rico’s feet on his back, shaking with strain and rising panic.

“Come here, Stanley.” The feet were lifted off him, and he was tugged closer by his hair. It had grown unusually long during his time in captivity. Rico liked it that way. “There, you got your attention, right? Now be a good boy and wait while I finish this meeting. You’ll get your treat then”, he said, running his hand through the other man’s curls sprawled on his lap in a mockery of tender patience. As if he was really talking to a dog.

“So”, one of his men continued, clearly relieved to get back to business, “as I was going to say, the situation in Cuba –“

“Oh, _Stanley_.” He was interrupted again, this time by a pleased groan of his boss. “Such a diligent little wh- _ohh_ … You just can’t… control yourself around me, no? Ah, _por Dios_ –“

“Uh, Don Federico, should we –“

“Carry on, friends”, Rico smirked, already slightly out of breath as his hands reached under the table. A couple of attendees shifted uncomfortably in their seats at the sound of a zipper being opened. “I’m sure no one will mind if I take care of my little pet while we do business. He’s _very_ needy, and sometimes he acts like a, mh, wild animal… But I have to admit I – _ahh_ –“

The man slid down in his chair, and his eyes slipped shut with an almost hazy moan. “God, I’m falling in _love_ with this wet mouth… Oh, Stanley… Good boy, such a good whore… Mind those teeth, remember?… Nh, _good_ …”

The company had fallen in an almost respectful silence at the audacious show of pleasure their boss was giving them. One of the younger officers was glancing feverishly at the door with a slightly nauseous look on his face.

To his luck, it didn’t last long; they all knew it was over from the muffled choking noise that could be heard from under the table, Rico’s wantonly loud cry of bliss signaling it even clearer.

The man fell limp in his chair gasping, and his gaze wandered around the room in a way that was nothing short of stunned. “Ohh, that was… You really put on a show there, Stanley… I thought these men might try to suck me dry today, but _you_ really… You’ve gotten so good at this, haven’t you? I was right to keep you all to myself… Hey.”

Suddenly he reached forward beneath the table, and a sharp snap of fingers was followed by a whimper. “Listen to me when I’m talking to you, _puto_. Don’t start acting up now. Now, since you got me in such a brilliant mood… Come here, you deserve a treat.”

The men around the table could finally see the secret attendant of their meeting as he was pulled onto Rico’s lap more or less forcibly by his hair. This time even some of the senior members shivered at the sight of the dehumanized creature, terror having taken residence deep in his eyes unable to focus on anything in particular. His naked, abused body curled up at the touch of Rico’s lips grazing his neck.

“Good boy”, Rico muttered as his hand sought its way between the man’s legs. “ _Good boy_ , Stanley…”

Stan’s face distorted horribly and his mouth flew open, but no noise, not a single breath could be heard.

“Well, that didn’t take much”, Rico noted. One of the members let out a stifled laughter that died instantly as Rico raised his eyes at him. “What’s so funny?”

“N... Nothing, Don Federico”, the man stammered almost noiselessly.

“Well, that’s unfortunate. What’s life without a little bit of fun, huh? Tell you what, I’ll have Javier have a little talk with you after the meeting. The guy’s a real joker, he should be throwing gigs. Which he already does, I admit, but they’re a bit different in nature.”

“I...” The officer’s wordless pleads of support from his fellow members received no response. Tears were starting to prickle in his eyes as he realized what was awaiting him once he stepped out of this room.

“Now, clean up your mess so we can continue.” Shifting his attention to Stan again, Rico pressed his sodden hand against the man’s mouth, which started moving in a disorderly manner that hardly counted as licking; but it did the job that was required of it.

“ _Sí_ , that’s it. Good boy.” He tilted the man’s head to face him and suddenly captured his chapped lips in a hungry, violent kiss. Stan’s jaw fell completely limp, letting the other man explore his mouth freely. His tongue pushed in so deep and earnest that it was as though he was really searching for something.

At last, it ended with a low hum. “I never knew you taste so good. Hm… Since you were such a good little slut, you deserve something very special tonight. I’d look forward to it if I were you.”

For a moment, Rico gazed at his captive with an almost mesmerized passion. Then he grabbed him by his hair again and all but dropped him back to cowering at his feet.

“As I said, _señores_ , pardon this disruption”, he said, once again spreading his hands in a hospitable manner. “Now, where were we?”

 

 

* * *

 

Stanley Pines lies on his back and can't stop thinking about water pipes.

They're such a great system. A great system. It makes life so much easier, whoever was the... Humans screech like pigs when they die. That high-pitched sound and the, the flailing. It doesn't sound like that in the movies. He'd been forced to watch three... seven?... three times. The blood just keeps pouring out for minutes and minutes and it makes your clothes stick to your skin and it stings when you tear them off, especially if you have a lot of body hair. Like ripping off a bandage. Naming the brand "The Rip-Off" was probably a mistake. People don't have a sense of humor when it comes to money. That wall is definitely closer to him than before. Or had he moved? Without noticing? What if... Water pipes are such a great system. They put them underground and…

…Rico was there.

Looking down at him with a smile on his face. Son of a bitch. His presence sent cold pinpricks running all over Stan’s body, and it left him feeling tense, weak and desperate. The man seemed to fill his entire field of vision as he leaned closer and gripped his chin lightly. Son of a bitch, son of a bitch, _son of a bitch_.

“Relax”, said Rico with the same gentle smile as he sat beside him on the bed. “You were good today. I said you deserve a special treat for your hard work, didn’t I? So stay still and relax.”

He kissed him; but this wasn’t like any of the rough, toothy invasions he’d forced on him before. It was soft and possessive, almost caring, as if they were… As if he…

Stan’s head was swimming. He didn’t understand. His body was still in a state of alert, readied to be abused and trashed around like a ragdoll, and he couldn’t move a muscle. He felt slightly nauseous from the strain.

The kiss ended, their eyes met again, and _now, now it begins, the first hit lands down any moment now_ … any second…

“You really don’t understand the word ‘relax’? _Tranqui_ , Stanley. _Relaja_ …”

The man’s lips moved to his neck, and a small sound escaped him as they caressed his skin, each kiss a little lower. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He felt a tongue sliding across his collarbone, and suddenly everything was _fucking disgusting_.

Javier, that inhuman piece of shit, he… He couldn’t move an inch as that _motherfucker_ stripped him out of what little clothing he had. He’d circled him for minutes like a scavenger before he’d put his hands on him. The room toppled over and his head hit the floor so hard he could taste blood in his mouth. The spidery limbs pinning him down against the filthy carpet, and… oh god, then it began. The licking. He just… held him down as he… licked, long, steady licks, everywhere, all over his body, every single inch, his face, his ears, the back of his neck, the spaces between his fingers, his nipples, his kneecaps, his toes, flipping him over and drenching his skin with saliva, _he was covered in the bastard’s drool_ , it was cold and sticky and disgusting and and filthy and _sick sick SICK_ and he just kept licking it must’ve continued for an hour already and he just started over and over again and he couldn’t move he couldn’t fight back he was paralyzed with fear and then he _BIT DOWN ON HIS SIDE AND HE THOUGHT HE WOULD TEAR OFF HIS FLESH AND IT BURNED LIKE HELL AND HE SCREAMED AND_ _THE MOTHERFUCKER_ _WOULDN’T LET GO AND THERE WAS BLOOD AND SO MUCH SPIT AND HE STILL COULDN’T MOVE HE COULDN’T_

“Really, Stanley, what does it take to make you relax?” Rico’s voice murmuring somewhere below his chest tore him back to reality, and the broken whimper that released itself from the back of his throat was enough to make him tremble with terror. He had to fight himself to stop the flashback from restarting.

“Look at you. Are you telling me you’re not enjoying this? Or… is it that you just want to get down to the real deal? Well, aren’t you an impatient little slut.” Another kiss, just below his navel. “My needy little slut.” Another one, a little lower, and now it wasn’t nearly as terrifying as it was…

“O-ghh...”

The next kiss landed on the base of his steadily hardening length, and the wave of lust that followed caught breath in Stan’s throat.

_What was this why is this happening this isn’t supposed to happen why would Rico make him feel good why why HOW – oh god, Jesus_ …

Rico’s wet lips were wrapped around his head, he was halfway in his mouth, and –

“A- _AHH_! H..ahh… god –”

His legs twitched violently against the sheets at the light sucking motion that set his nerves on fire. He hadn’t felt anything like this, not even a hint of unwanted arousal for weeks, and now the almost violent need was driving him out of his mind.

But then Rico’s mouth retreated, and he was back in his own nightmare.

“No, no, no… Don’t st- _ah_ … don’t…” Don’t you dare stop, asshole. _Don’t you fucking dare._ “Oh, fuck, n-no…”

“You like it that much, hm?” Rico hummed. His hot breath blew against Stan’s aching cock, making him whine through gritted teeth. “If you want me to go on, you need to ask for it. Show some respect to your owner like the good dog you are. Say _‘please’_.”

Stan froze. _He would rather die. He’d rather die. He would die. This would kill him. He’d die he’d die he’d die… Oh god he didn’t want to die like this but at least this would end but he’d never… see his brother again…_

“Come on now, I haven’t got all day…” A tongue dragged itself lightly along his underside, catching a few drops of precum pooling from the tip and making Stan writhe and cry with another surge of torturous frustration not again oh god not this again _just let me die he didn’t want to die he didn’t no no no make it stop just kill me already I don’t want to I’ll do anything but that I’ll say ANYTHING BUT THAT –_

“Then again”, Rico whispered, “I could just keep on like this until you’re dry. I just…” Another lick, god, Stan couldn’t bear a single more disgusting lick in his entire lifetime – “… _love_ the way you taste…”

“I love you –“

…

The words came out of his mouth in a breathless torrent he couldn’t stop.

“What?”

He didn’t stop.

“I love you...”

“…Say it again.”

“I love you. ...I love you.”

As many times as it takes.

“… _Dilo de nuevo_ … Stanley…”

“ _Yo… Yo te quiero_.”

“Again…”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

He didn’t stop saying it when Rico’s mouth wrapped around him even tighter, more passionate than before.

He didn’t stop saying it when his vision flashed white and his fingernails dug into the sheets at the peak of his pleasure.

He didn’t stop saying it when he was lying scrambled on the floor by the bed, flicking his tongue across the other man’s sole over and over again.

His lips kept repeating the words even when there was no air left in his lungs, his face buried deep in the pillow, Rico’s hand gripping his hair and hips roughly grinding down on his.

He didn’t stop…

He didn’t…

 

 

* * *

 

His eyes flashed open in the dark. This is it, you piece of shit. _This is it._

He got slowly up and slid out of the bed, quiet, barely breathing. The window was open. No handcuffs. _You forgot the handcuffs, asshole_. This is it. This was his chance. This time he’d get away. There was no one to follow him, no one…

…

With trembling hands, he picked up Rico’s gun from the pile of clothes on the floor.

_Motherfucker. This is it. This is it…_

He stared down at the sleeping man across the barrel of the gun and thought about screeching pigs. Maybe not... when it's with a gun... Just one, clear shot. He wouldn't even wake up. HE WOULDN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT HIT HIM. Just one – clean shot right between his eyes – And he'd – never –

There was no muffler. The goons at the front door would be here in less than thirty seconds. He'd just... kill them too. Shoot'em dead, every one of them. How many bullets...? He had no idea. He didn't know how to use a gun. They'd kill him or worse. Worse. _Javier_.

He realized he was covered in sweat. His body was damp and cold and sticky all over. It was just sweat... his own sweat... Right?

Right…?

He glanced at the window. He… might break his ankle again, like last time. He wouldn’t be able to drive his car. And if he couldn’t get across the border… he had no place to hide.

…

What if he just… stayed?

It wouldn’t… be so bad. His treatment had gotten better. He had food and a place to sleep. In a way, in many ways, it was much better than the streets, right? And… Rico was now possessive enough to never let Javier near him again. And if he ever misbehaved again, well… He might as well go all the way. It would be a quick death. It would be over. It would be over, and he’d… never have to face his brother again. He’d never have to see the state he was in.

Ford would never have to…

…

… _Stanford_.

There was still a chance. It was his… only chance.

Slowly, quietly, he put the gun back down on the floor.

And fled.


End file.
